


Asking for Forgiveness

by Phobicrhyme



Series: Scenes from before the events of The Mandalorian [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din Djarin has PTSD, Din just wants his family back, Greef Karga briefly mentioned, Hurt Din Djarin, Identity Issues, Pre-Episode: s01e01 The Mandalorian, no beta we die like stormtroopers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28793496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phobicrhyme/pseuds/Phobicrhyme
Summary: “I’m… Sorry.” Din tried to keep his voice steady, the modulator would only hide so much.“For what?” She was always precise. Succinct and to the point.“For leaving the tribe- for leaving my family.” The Armorer did not respond. Again, she waited patiently, her gaze not moving from his helmet.Or,After years of running with Ran's crew and then having rejoined the covert, Din asks for a way to redeem himself in the eyes of his tribe and family.
Relationships: The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Series: Scenes from before the events of The Mandalorian [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110155
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Asking for Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> There's a bit in the middle that may not make sense, so reading part 1 of this series may help for context, but otherwise have at it :)

Din hesitated before the crevice in the wall. He touched a hand to the cold stone before pushing himself toward the curtain. The sewers still had a cold feeling to them – not as warm as they used to be, but still getting better.

As he padded down the stairs, some foundlings that were play-fighting knocked into his feet. They abruptly stopped, got up and shuffled away sheepishly. The cease of the wrestling caused the other Mandalorians in the immediately vicinity look up and stare at him. A pang stabbed through Din’s chest. He moved forward.

Din attempted to keep his pace steady while ignoring the stares. The sewers were colder than ever. He was welcome… but he wasn’t. The corridor felt painfully long, like he was trapped in a form of purgatory; the helmets weren’t helping. He eventually approached The Forge, carefully removed his pulse rifle and set it against the wall to his left. A sign of respect for The Armorer. He moved to the little seat, sat down and waited patiently.

The Armorer was standing at The Forge, hammering at a pauldron. The clangs echo throughout the covert and began to get under Din’s skin. The flames rose high, and roared; the sounds of explosions echoing through them. Din’s breathing quickened, he almost got up and left—this was a big mistake and he shouldn’t be doing this. But the hammering stopped before he could move even a muscle. He hadn’t realised he’d squeezed his eyes shut until he forced himself to reopen them. The Armorer dipped the pauldron into cold water steaming up the immediate area. She pulled it out to inspect it, was satisfied and set the piece of armour aside for later. Din couldn’t back out now, he would have to say something worthwhile. She approached the table, and waited for him. He nodded subtly before she did the same and sat down. Waiting.

“I’m… Sorry.” Din tried to keep his voice steady, the modulator would only hide so much.

“For what?” She was always precise. Succinct and to the point.

“For leaving the tribe- for leaving my family.” The Armorer did not respond. Again, she waited patiently, her gaze not moving from his helmet.

“I felt… anger. I was upset at a life given to me that I did not decide and did not have any control over.” He took the time to carefully formulate his words, he was terrified. The pang he felt earlier was only getting worse under The Armorer’s gaze. She was still. If he didn’t know her, he would’ve thought she was a statue.

“I realised that I was holding on to who I was before I was found. And… I wasn’t grateful for who I am now and all the tribe has done for me. And all you’ve done for me.” The silence she was giving was agonising.

“You’re…” The confession was on the tip of his tongue; he wasn’t sure how she would take this. The tribe was his family, all brothers and sisters in arms, all caring for the foundlings, all for each other. This shouldn’t make a difference, but… he felt like things would’ve been very different without her. “You’re the closest thing to a mother I’ve had since I was a child. Thank you.” Again, she didn’t move. But he’d been young, and she’d been there to pick him up when he’d fallen or made a mistake. She’d been firm, but she’d set him on the right path and instilled things in him that hadn’t changed to this day. The days he’d challenged other foundlings to fights and his angry outbursts got the better of him, she’d been there to tell him how to concentrate that anger and took him out to do drills. Din had more to say.

“My past haunts me, less so than before, but enough that it fills my dreams.” His fingers curled around the material of his trouser leg. “I thought that by leaving the covert, and leading my life another way, that it would… fix things. But it only got worse.” Din attempted to steady his breathing, once again thankful for the modulator. “I wish to return properly. To help." The Armorer canted her helmet at his. After a while, she spoke.

“Your life before The Way is gone. This is the truth. But I understand you want peace within yourself.” Din nodded at this.

“Have you ever removed your helmet?”

“No.”

“Has anyone else ever removed your helmet?” Din started. His skin began to prickle at the memory of Darga. His fingers grabbed more firmly at the canvas material

“Yes, but I destroyed the light and killed him before he could see my face.” A beat passed between them.

“Then you have not broken The Way of the Mandalore.” She got up from her seat and began to walk over to the small armoury in the corner. Din’s head followed her.

“The peace you seek shall be through repentance.” She picked up something from the cases and strolled back over to the table and sat down.

“You must prove yourself to us.”

“In combat?”

“No. Another way. You must choose what this is. For combat only tells so much. You must show your intentions.” Din felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“Yes.”

“As a show of good faith, I am presenting these to you.” The Armorer placed a pair of plain beskar hand plates on the table. Din was stunned.

“I cannot accept these.”

“Are you dar’manda?” Din’s eyes widened at the thought.

“No!”

“Then you will accept. Prove to us who you are, Din Djarin.” Din flinched at his name as she got up from the table and went back to work on the next pauldron. Din sat at the table a minute longer, not wanting to touch the hand plates. He was… surprised. He hadn’t expected the gesture of kindness from her. He smiled a sad smile and picked them up, inspecting them. He ran gloved fingers over the metal, tracing the outside and then into the plain triangle shape in the middle of them. He carefully set them down and started pulling at his now old hand plates. He disconnected them from their magnetics and carefully attached the new ones, silently thanking The Armorer for looking after him once again. He left the old hand plates so The Armorer could reuse them if she wanted.

He got up from the table and turned to find Paz leaning against the entrance to The Forge. Din’s heart leapt at seeing his old friend, but quickly remembered where he currently stood. He collected his rifle and walked up the stairs to be more level with the hulking Mandalorian. Paz’s helmet followed him as he moved.

“How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough.” Din chewed the inside of his lip, apprehension flooding his body. He looked at Paz a few more seconds before heading off. The things he wanted to say to him, but this wasn’t the time.

Din walked back through the sewers, feeling everyone’s eyes on him again. He kept his stride even; he had hope for being a part of this tribe again. To feel the love and protection that he once felt while being in their presence. To be able to sit with Paz and his other siblings, and play a game of sabacc without their judgement of his past actions. As soon as he entered the street, his shoulders relaxed a little, and he flexed his hands while looking at the plates once again. Relief swelled up in his chest once again, The Armorer felt that he was redeemable. Din already had an idea of how he could prove himself in the eyes of the covert, something that would sustain them. He’d heard of a man named Greef Karga who operated a local branch of the bounty hunters guild, having a talk with him seemed like it would be a good place to start.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading this, this was interesting to write.  
> I wanted to keep exploring Din's character in a different way. So I thought: Din would've left the covert when he was younger, feeling angry at not knowing who he was so he joined Ran's crew. And when he was with them, he must've been away from the covert for at least a few years and felt guilty about that as he tried to find out who he was. So this was a culmination of the feelings that Din probs would've felt over the years and realised that the tribe were the ones that he needed, not danger. Just returning to the covert would've been difficulty, right? So there would've been a moment where Din had to sit down and talk to someone, to allow him to have a chance at returning.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed it, please tell me if there's anywhere I can improve on. <3


End file.
